


Prompt Collection - Alistair x Delia

by shittybundaskenyer



Series: Heartstrings [3]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Prompt Fill, Tumblr Prompt, prompt collection
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-26
Updated: 2019-06-26
Packaged: 2020-05-20 09:01:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,039
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19373500
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shittybundaskenyer/pseuds/shittybundaskenyer
Summary: Little fics and drabbles of tumblr prompt fills featuring my Warden and Alistair.





	Prompt Collection - Alistair x Delia

**Author's Note:**

> The prompt was: “I wonder if you know what you are doing to me.”

Thunder rumbles in the distance and the wind softly whistles outside the tent but it’s warm inside, with his chest pressed to Delia’s back and the furs pulled up to their necks. He usually finds peace in just sleeping with her in his arms but tonight is different. Tonight his mind’s racing with terrible thoughts and memories and the dull ache in his side is keeping him up, too.

Alistair sighs softly into the crook of her neck and his breath lifts a few strands of hair on her nape. Delia is a loud sleeper but tonight she’s quiet, curled up into a ball and clutching one of his hands that hugs her middle.

“Sleep,” she mumbles and he lets out a sudden exhale, burying his nose further into her neck, lips brushing her skin.

“I didn’t know you were awake,” he murmurs and she shifts, turning towards him, quietly hissing from the stinging pain in her shoulder and back. She had been tossed and kicked multiple times the other day and even if her injuries were not severe, she looks pretty beaten up still.

“I wasn’t.”

“Sorry for waking you,” he whispers and leans closer to her so their noses almost bump. Delia smiles, just a little twitch of the corner of her mouth, but it’s there and Alistair’s heart flutters.

“It’s fine,” she lifts a hand and to his face so she can touch the thickening stubble on his jawline. Her thumb slowly caresses his skin until it reaches his mouth, gently tracing his lower lip.

Alistair plants a small kiss on her finger and pulls her closer to his chest.

“Delia?”

“Hm?”

“Why are you so reckless?” He mutters and kisses her palm, her wrist and leans closer to kiss her forehead. “We’re not so young anymore, yet you always jump into the middle of danger.” He pushes the hair out of her face, tucking it behind her ear and he sighs again, his hand returning to her temple and carefully traces the dark violet bruise around her left eye. She can’t open it fully and the bruise’s edges already started to turn into an ugly shade of green.

“It’s just the way how I am. You should know this. We’re married, you know,” she smiles, but truly this time and places her palm on his hand that’s stroking her face.

“I know, I just…” he closes his eyes for a moment and bites his lip, not sure if he should say what he wants. “As every minute passes there are just fewer and fewer moments we have and I think you don’t know what you’re doing to me.”

“I—” She tries to respond with something clever but the words are not coming, and even if they would, they’re not enough to describe how she feels. She looks down at the small patch of freckled skin that’s visible above his shirt.

It starts to rain outside.

Alistair waits, the silence making him tense and his face pulls into a slight frown, drawing worried wrinkles into his forehead.

“I know you wanted me to find the cure,” when she finally speaks it is barely a whisper, muttered into the crook of his neck as she pulls him close, trying to feel every part of him with her body. Alistair shudders but doesn’t interrupt her, not when he finally got an answer. “I know you wanted to have a family with me. I know you wanted to grow old with me, and I’m sorry.”

When the truth is out in the open it’s harder than he first thought. She knows him even better than he knows himself, she knows his darkest fears and deepest desires and when she says them out loud he feels they will never come to pass. Not the good and not the bad. Their love remains a tragedy, two broken warriors destined to die by the taint before they can grow old.

“I know you did everything you could I just… I don’t want to lose you. I don’t want to wait until the light disappears from your eyes. I don’t want to see how your skin turns purple, how black veins spread through your body. I don’t want to see how you fade away. I can’t,” his bottom lips trembles and he has to look away because if he stares into her eyes a second longer he will break into pieces and never be whole again.

Her fingers ghost over his chest, slipping under the fabric of his shirt until her palm lays flat above his heart.

“Do you think I feel differently? That I am not afraid of seeing you fall apart?” She shifts a little and tucks her head under his chin so she can rest her head next to his pulse point, listening to his wildly beating heart.

“No,” he exhales slowly until every last gulp of air leaves his lungs and he hopes a bit of his pain floats away with it too. “But that’s not an excuse for you throwing yourself into danger every time. I know I’ll lose you sooner than I should but I don’t want you to die in a mere sword fight,” he swallows and she knows he’s fighting back tears. She would be too if she could have any tears left.

“I know it’s hard, my love,” she tries to soothe him with her voice, with small pecks above the neckline of his shirt but Alistair is grieving tonight, she realises, and it breaks her heart too because when she was on the road for almost a year, alone, without any hope and the Calling whispering in the back of her mind she felt exactly like him. “I know.”

Alistair shudders and grips her shoulder, holding her as close as he can. Pain shoots up her side but she doesn’t care, not when he clings so desperately into her and weeps like she’d died already.

“Am I cursed?” His voice cracks and her heart does too. Alistair kisses her temple, the edge of the bruise, and the crown of her head.

“My dear Alistair,“she tilts her head up and kisses him softly, reassuring, and mutters quietly, "In this world, we’re all cursed.”


End file.
